


WHEN THE KIDS'RE AWAY, THE OLD MECHS WILL PLAY

by thoughtsdemise



Series: The Twelve Days of Overloading [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Bondage, Chains, Dominance, Humiliation kink, M/M, Punishment, Riding Crop, Rough play, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Submission, aphrodisiac, dildo, pain play, pussy licking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 07:59:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18752278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtsdemise/pseuds/thoughtsdemise
Summary: On the second day of Overload-mus my true spark gave to me, two naughty mechs and a chained up Megsy. (Ratchet and Megatron have some fun on the bridge.)





	WHEN THE KIDS'RE AWAY, THE OLD MECHS WILL PLAY

“You know, Megsy,” Ratchet fiddles with a half empty vial of viscous liquid, “when you ran this idea by me a few weeks ago, I didn’t think you were being serious.”  Ratchet leans down and runs the digits of his free hand over Megatron’s cheek. “Now you’re sure you still want to do this?” Ratchet would be lying if he said he wasn’t already anticipating what was to come, especially with the way Megatron was straining against the chains to press his face into Ratchet’s softly pressing digits.  Ratchet bites his lip at the thought of Megatron so desperate for any touch.

When Ratchet did nothing more than pet his cheek, Megatron turns his head and snaps at Ratchet’s hand.  He bites into the red metal with a growl that resonates through his entire frame. Ratchet’s optics narrow, but he doesn’t pull the hand away.  In fact he ignores the pain streaming from the sensitive sensors in his hand and subspaces the vial so he can grab Megatron’s chin and force his head back.

“Release.”  

The command is harsh and firm, drawing a shiver and automatic response from Megatron.  Ratchet holds Megatron’s chin tighter in a grip hard enough to leave dents. He leans forward to stare challengingly into red optics that film with lust.  He snorts in slight disgust before standing up. A hand clutches at a length of chain bound around Megatron’s chest and drags the big mech forward.

“Stay on your knees,” Ratchet snaps, letting anger coat his vocal tones.

Since they were already on the secured bridge, Megatron doesn’t have to crawl far before Ratchet slings him forward to impact loudly with the captain’s chair.  Megatron vents to calm his systems as they thrill at the treatment. With a mech so little as Ratchet was, anyone outside of the Cybertronian race would think him incapable of easily tossing mechs as large as Jetfire around if they gave them any slag in the medbay.

Megatron moves to lift himself slightly, but a ped is slammed into the center of his back keeping him effectively pinned to the captain’s chair.

“My, my.  You really are set on testing my patience tonight aren’t you, shareware?”

Despite the aphrodisiac running through his lines, Megatron growls at the humiliating name that Ratchet only ever used when he was pissed off and trying to make a point.  He huffs but flattens himself against the seat of the chair he is pinned against. His kibble and plates pulling in tight to his frame in an act of submission, hoping to appease the medic.  He feels the ped dig into his spinal strut a clear warning to stay where he was. Megatron shivered and obeyed.

Satisfied that Megatron was going to listen to him (honestly that young mech acted like such a brat sometimes), Ratchet pulls out a false spike from subspace.  He admires the replica of Megatron’s spike for a moment. His optics swing to the prone form of Megatron who was beginning to tremble again. He makes a mental note to talk to Perceptor about the ingredients that he had used to make this particular concoction.  He leans forward and presses the side of his face to Megatron and nuzzles him. Honestly he was getting too soft in the spark to be particularly mean to his bratty sub, especially when he was quick to correct a misbehavior so that Ratchet wouldn’t ever leaved him chained up and panting on the edge of overload for hours again.  Ratchet smiles fondly at that particular punishment. He rumbles his engine and leans his chest into Megatron’s back and rubs against him.

“Open up.”

Ratchet slides his free hand down to stroke over Megatron’s valve cover.  There is a small whine at the soft command, but the cover snaps aside quickly.  

“Mm.  Good boy,” Ratchet praises and tickles the rim of the valve.

Oh how he wanted to sink his whole hand into it and just fist Megatron til he was begging for mercy.  He draws his probing digits back and positions the false spike at the entrance instead.

“Now take a deep breath and try not to tense up.”

That was the only warning Megatron received before he felt a large spike shoved deep into him.  He raises himself off the seat of the chair and to call out in pain. His vocalizer glitches on his cry before he sinks down to press his face into the cushion of the captain’s chair, very glad for use that Rodimus had demanded the plush cushion for his aft.

Ratchet wiggles the spike around in the partially draw valve to make sure it is seated fully into Megatron.  He twists the bottom and tendrils spear out to lock onto the rim of the valve, locking the spike into place. He chuckles and stands while dusting off his hands.  His optics flick over the trembling form of Megatron with satisfaction to see him bent low.

“A lesson taught is a lesson learned,” he quips as he moves around to the side of Megatron and pets his shoulder.  “Now remember your words.” He lifts Megatron’s head gently and turns red optics to his.

“Green,” Megatron intones somewhat brokenly as his hips shift backward to test the girth and length that was shoved into his valve.  Megatron pauses and shoots a look at a smug looking Ratchet. “That’s mine.” His cheek plates heat.

“Mm, yes,” Ratchet agrees happily and nudge Megatron back to sit his aft on his knees.  “Decided I wanted to watch you fuck yourself for awhile.” Ratchet sits himself in the captain’s chair and spreads his legs.  He raises and hand beckons Megatron forward. “You always look so beautiful when you do.”

Ratchet smiles at the suddenly bashful ex-warlord.  He pets Megatron’s helm when he has shuffled close enough.  His own valve cover snicks aside as he leans back. Megatron lowers his helm and runs his glossa over Ratchet’s valve without the need for a command.  Ratchet chuckles and shifts his aft forward to the edge of the seat. Couldn’t leave behind too big of a mess otherwise Rodimus would throw another tantrum.

_‘Now there’s another brat who needs a firm guiding hand.  Really have to make a point of talking to Magnus about getting that boy in hand.  Perhaps some shared play time?’_

Ratchet moans as Megatron sinks his glossa into him.  In response he touches his pinky to the palm of his hand lightly, activating a slow vibrating turn along the false spike.  Megatron gasps against Ratchet’s valve but doesn’t stop licking. Ratchet’s digits pet over his helm in praise.

He leans back and activates the command controls set into the arm of the chair that brought up a bank of security monitors.  After he had volunteered for monitor duty while the other mechs got to enjoy the pleasures of the layway port they had docked in.  His optics glance down at Megatron who had paused to shift and whine when the vibration of the false spike increased in tempo. He cracks a grin a settles back to enjoy his quiet time with his favorite toy while the kids were out playing.


End file.
